


like before my tongue has twisted

by seeingrightly



Series: i haven't known you for a lifetime [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bipolar Disorder, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:50:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2669336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yev’s birthday is this weekend,” she says after a second.</p><p>Ian looks over at Debbie, who’s got her eyebrows raised and a hopeful expression on her face. He’s pretty sure he’s doing the same thing. When he looks back at Mandy, she’s squinting between the two of them.</p><p>“What,” she says.</p><p>“Tell me you’ve got something planned,” Debbie says, and at the same time Ian asks, “Are you having a party?”</p><p>“Oh my god,” Mandy says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like before my tongue has twisted

**Author's Note:**

> surprise!!!! this series is still happening. it just took forever, because ian's pov is harrrrd, y'all. i've been sporadically writing this one for, like, a month.
> 
> thanks to [melissa](merlingwaine.tumblr.com) for editing/listening to me whine for the past 82 years!!!
> 
> title from the blow's "come on petunia".

Ian feels a little off for the first week of the spring semester, but he settles in pretty quickly. He’s been taking classes part-time for a few years now, and recovering from much worse low periods for even longer than that. It doesn’t take long to fall into new routines, and a few weeks in he and Debbie are taking the train together every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, even though her classes start earlier.

He and Debbie have spent much more time together in the years since Lip went away to school and Ian came home after running away. Debbie feels less and less like Ian’s baby sister with each year, especially now that they’re in school together. But he still feels weird, sometimes, that she’s grown up so much.

They’re sitting next to one another on the train, and Debbie has her phone out as usual. Ian watches her frown at the screen for a few seconds before reaching over to fix her scarf where it’s folded over weirdly. She huffs and shoves his hand away, and he smiles.

“You texting that theater geek?” Ian asks.

“Nah, I broke it off with him a while ago,” Debbie says, and Ian wonders if a while ago means a few days or a few weeks.

He definitely doesn’t have room to judge Debbie’s behavior, but it amazes him, how she’s constantly running through a bunch of guys, like she talks to them just long enough to realize they don’t meet her list of requirements or something. He wonders what she’s looking for.

“Any good prospects?” Ian asks.

“Nah,” Debbie says again. “But this one guy would probably do all my Statistics homework for me if I asked him to.”

“You’re great at Stats,” Ian says, and Debbie shrugs.

“So?” she asks.

“Good point,” Ian says.

They get off the train and head toward campus. Ian usually sits in the library until his first class, and if he gets out early enough he can hang out with Debbie and Mandy for a bit at the campus center before they all have to break off again.

“I’ll text you when I get out?” Ian says.

“Yes, Ian, just like every _other_ Monday, Wednesday, and Friday,” Debbie says, rolling her eyes and shoving him before heading in the opposite direction.

He runs into a girl who was in one of his classes last semester halfway to the library. He knows her name and that she’s in his program, but not much else; since he’s not on campus all that much, he’s only really gotten to know a few people that he’s done group projects with, and he’s fine with that. Still, he talks to her the whole way to the library, and when he holds the door open she puts her hand on his arm as she goes by. Ian smiles at her and then rolls his eyes once she passes.

“Are you nervous about graduating at the end of the semester?” she asks him, loitering in the lobby.

“Oh, I’m not graduating yet,” Ian says. “I’m part-time, so I’ll be here a while longer.”

People’s reactions to that are always weird and varied, but he’s gotten more used to talking about it each semester. While he’s not exactly happy to be taking so long or to feel so behind, he is happy that he’s able to go to school at all, and when people are dicks about it he’s really good at making them uncomfortable.

“Oh,” the girl says, and then after a moment she adds, “You’re so lucky! I know I’m _not_ ready for the real world.”

“Uh huh,” Ian says. “I’m the luckiest. I gotta go do some studying. Bye!”

He smiles brightly at her before heading toward a nook near the back of the library, and once he’s settled in at his usual table, he pulls out his phone to text Mickey while he kills time.

-

Mandy and Debbie are already at a table in the campus center when Ian gets there. They’re sitting together on the booth side of a table at the café, slumped back against the cushions and looking at something on Debbie’s phone. Mandy reaches over Debbie’s arm to scroll down, but when Ian pulls out a chair across the table she startles and pulls her arm back, sitting up fully to look at him.

Mandy’s twitchy about touching, like Mickey is, although she’d gotten comfortable with Ian pretty much as soon as he’d told her that he was gay. She protests when she’s in front of other people, sometimes, but he can tell the difference between her discomfort with being _seen_ being affectionate, and her discomfort with the person she’s touching. Here, now, it seems to be the former, ‘cause Mandy’s gotten pretty used to Debbie too.

“Talking to Stats?” Ian asks at he sits down.

“No, this guy from my psych class,” Debbie says. “He works at the caf. Mandy said I should see if I can get free food off of him. That’s totally a better deal.”

“Tell him you’ll visit when he’s working,” Mandy says.

“Good idea,” Debbie says, smiling at Mandy before turning back to her phone.

Ian’s not sure when it became a game for the two of them, to see what they could convince boys to do for Debbie. It’s funny, because Debbie’s never had many friends, and she’s never seemed to like the friends she has very much, but she’s latched onto Mandy in a way that’s new. It’s a bit like how Debbie used to crush on boys when she was younger, before she’d really even talked to one she wasn’t related to – kind of obsessive, kind of awed, kind of embarrassing.

It’s probably mostly because Mandy is older, but Ian thinks it also has to do with the fact that Mandy’s – well. She’s aggressive and sweet at the same time, but not in the same way that Debbie’s both. Debbie is unpredictable and intense about it, while Mandy tries really hard to be one or the other depending on the occasion. But Debbie sees through the Milkovich façade just as easily as Ian does.

“What about you?” Ian asks when Mandy looks down at her phone.

“Trying to convince Svetlana to pick up my present for the kid while she’s out,” Mandy says, annoyed. “I already know what I want to get him and she’s at the store, so she should just grab it while she’s there.”

“Present?” Ian asks, and Mandy looks up at him suspiciously.

“Yev’s birthday is this weekend,” she says after a second.

Ian looks over at Debbie, who’s got her eyebrows raised and a hopeful expression on her face. He’s pretty sure he’s doing the same thing. When he looks back at Mandy, she’s squinting between the two of them.

“What,” she says.

“Tell me you’ve got something planned,” Debbie says, and at the same time Ian asks, “Are you having a party?”

“Oh my god,” Mandy says.

“Come on!” Debbie says.

“We don’t really do birthdays,” Mandy says with a shrug. “We never have. We get the kid a couple of gifts but that’s about it.”

Ian looks over at Debbie again. She’s pouting a little. He takes a deep breath and goes for it.

“What if we throw him a party?” he asks. After a second of Mandy squinting at him he continues, “We can do something at our house, something small, just a cake and some decorations. And I wouldn’t even have to pay for the decorations ‘cause I can get them from work.”

“And Sheila would make the cake for free,” Debbie adds. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“I don’t know,” Mandy says quietly, looking down at her phone.

“You think Mickey or Svetlana wouldn’t want us to?” Ian asks.

“I don’t know,” Mandy says again, more firmly this time. “Well, I know Svetlana would be fine with it. She likes doing anything she never used to get to do. But Mickey –”

She shrugs.

“What about you?” Debbie asks, and Mandy shrugs again.

“I don’t really think about that stuff,” she says.

“You’re thinking about it right now,” Debbie says, nudging Mandy’s arm. “What do you think?”

Mandy looks at Debbie out of the corner of her eye. She starts to shrug again and then catches herself, and after a second, she nods.

“I’m – I’d be okay with it, yeah,” she says. “If it happened. But that’s not something we talk about.”

“You don’t have to,” Ian says. “I’ll talk to him, ‘cause it’s my idea.”

Mandy looks up at him, and a smile slowly crosses her face.

“Okay,” she says.

“Oh my god,” Debbie says at her phone. “The caf here has way better stuff than Lip’s school did.”

-

Ian gets home from work that night just as everyone’s sitting down to dinner; tonight, everyone includes the Balls, so some people are at the table, and some are at the counter. Ian hangs up his stuff on an overcrowded hook near the back door and goes to grab a plate, settling in against the counter near Vee.

“How’s your boy?” she asks, nudging Ian.

“I think you’ve talked to him more recently than I have,” Ian says. “He said he was supposed to call you to figure out what night works best for weekly playdates?”

Vee cackles into her cup.

“He’s trying so hard to be like a normal person or some shit,” she says. “It’s adorable.”

“When do you think he’ll catch on?” Kev asks from the table, where he’s got Gemma on his lap. “Like we have any fuckin’ clue what normal parents do.”

“I think Svetlana knows,” Vee says, “but she’s just excited to hang out with people don’t have the last name Milkovich.”

“And the twins make Yev look like an angel in comparison,” Ian adds, sticking his tongue out at Amy when she grabs a napkin off the counter across from him.

Carl sighs loudly and drops his head back as he slumps down in his chair.

“What?” Ian asks.

“Can we change the topic?” Carl asks. “All we ever talk about anymore is how great your boyfriend and his kid and his sister and his scary-hot ex-wife are.”

Ian frowns. He knows they’ve been talking about the Milkoviches a lot, but that’s because all of them have become friends with all of the Milkoviches. They’ve all got different reasons to want to talk about them.

“You’re just jealous,” Debbie says, shoving Carl’s arm out of her way as she reaches for a knife.

“Jealous?” Carl sneers. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Uh, because you think Mickey’s the coolest, and Fiona and Ian won’t let you hang out with him,” Debbie says.

Carl groans and slumps even lower in his seat.

“I won’t even gonna ask him anything about knives or guns!” Carl wails, and Fiona scoffs loudly. “All Ian ever does is talk about how great Mickey is and I can’t even talk to the guy for more than two seconds. It’s not fair!”

“No I don’t,” Ian says, frowning at Carl. “Do I?”

He turns to Vee, who shrugs.

“You kinda do,” she says, “but it’s not like you’re the only one. Carl’s right – we’re all being fuckin’ annoying. It’s not like back when Debbie had a crush on that boy with the weird hair –”

“His hair was not _weird_ ,” Debbie shouts, and Ian tunes out the debate that follows.

He’s been talking about Mickey to his family. A lot. He’s been talking to his family about Mickey at _all_ , and that’s huge. It’s not like it was really a conscious choice, ‘cause he started doing it back before – well, before Mickey was anything but some guy he met in the park, the brother of his new friend. And while his family’s definitely found out about some of Ian’s boyfriends or whatever in the past, it’s never been like this.

It’s a big change, and a nice one, Ian thinks. It’s a lot of pressure, because everyone knows if something bad happens, but – well. The Milkoviches don’t really have any friends, and now they do, and Ian’s seen the look on Mandy’s face when Debbie compliments her, seen the tension leaving Svetlana’s shoulders the more she talks to Vee and Fiona, seen the way Mickey laughs with Kev or Fi. Ian can take a little extra discomfort sometimes for that.

“Hey Fi,” Ian says, and she turns away from Liam. “What’s happening around the house on Sunday?”

“Why don’t you tell me,” Fiona replies, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Well, uh, I haven’t cleared it yet or anything,” Ian says, glancing at Debbie, “but I want to have a birthday party for Yev? Something really small.”

Fiona smiles widely, and Vee nudges Ian in the side again, making that high-pitched noise she makes when one of the twins does something cute.

“Something small!” Ian says again. “And I don’t even know if we can do it yet. I just wanted to make sure I could do it here before I asked.”

“Course you can,” Fiona says. “Just let me know what kinda help you need, alright?”

“Alright,” Ian says, ignoring the look Kev and Vee are exchanging. “I’ll let you know.”

-

On Wednesday, Ian goes home with Mandy after he gets out of class and her shift ends. Everyone’s going to be around for dinner, and he might stick around and do some homework after Mickey leaves for work. They’re both armed with bags from the diner when they arrive, and when Svetlana answers the door she grabs the bags and heads into the kitchen, leaving Ian’s arms free for when Yev spots him and shouts his name.

“Hey, bud,” Ian laughs, tossing Yev over his shoulder.

He holds still so Mandy can work his backpack off of his shoulders while Yev squirms in his grip. When he looks over at the couch, Mickey’s leveling them all with an unimpressed look, so Ian heads over to him and drops Yev onto his lap.

“I think this is yours,” Ian says, dodging Yev’s flailing limbs.

Mickey squints down at Yev as he sits up.

“You sure?” Mickey asks. “I don’t remember mine being so damn tall.”

“Oh!” Yev shouts, jumping off of Mickey’s lap and grabbing Ian’s hand. “Look how big I am!”

He drags Ian over to a spot in the hallway that’s covered in pencil markings. There are a bunch down at the bottom – somebody must’ve started it before Yev was even old enough to stand on his own – and then three up near Ian’s line of sight. Yev points to a particular marking, and Ian squats down to see that it’s an inch or so away from the one below it.

“Wow,” Ian says solemnly. “You’re practically a giant.”

“I know!” Yev says.

“Hey, come and eat,” Mandy calls.

Ian’s not sure when they got a fifth chair – it’s not like any of the furniture matches to begin with, and it’s a fold-out chair so it might’ve just been in a closet or something – but it’s been at the table the last few times Ian’s come over. Ian helps Yev settle into a chair before sitting down himself as the other three finish setting up the table. When Mickey puts down a glass in front of Ian, his other hand grips the back of Ian’s neck for a second, and Ian fumbles the napkin he was grabbing.

His family, Lip especially, makes fun of him for the moony look he tends to get around people he likes. Ian knows looking at Mickey the way he sometimes does can kind of defeat the purpose of Mickey doing subtle shit like that, defeat the whole premise of subtlety, but – well, Mickey keeps doing subtle shit like that even though it makes him uncomfortable.

Mickey looks over at Ian for a second as he puts a plate down in front of Yev, and he glares at whatever he sees and his face goes a little pink, and Ian tries really, really hard to smooth out his expression. He doesn’t want Mickey to stop making these little gestures because Ian can’t control his face.

He focuses on Svetlana instead when she sits down.

“How was your date with Nika last weekend?” Ian asks.

Svetlana’s lip curls, and Ian glances over just in time to see Mickey grimace.

“Uh,” Ian starts, “you don’t have to –”

Svetlana waves a hand, and looks over at where Yev and Mandy are talking animatedly about something Yev had done during school earlier in the day.

“I like her and she like me, but I have child,” Svetlana says, shrugging. “It happen a lot. They are fine until time to meet child.”

“It must be hard,” Ian says. “Dating with a kid.”

He turns and watches Yev squirm as Mandy cleans his face off with a napkin.

“Yes, usually,” Svetlana says, and when Ian turns back, she’s looking right at him with her eyebrows raised.

“Uh,” Ian says again.

He obviously doesn’t mind that Mickey has a kid. But it’s not like he started dating Mickey and then found out about Yev, or something. He’s Yev’s friend just as much as he’s Mickey’s boyfriend.

Ian’s not sure what Svetlana’s expecting him to say, and Mickey’s looking down at his plate, unreadable, but Ian’s saved when Yev knocks his fork to the ground.

Mickey goes to get ready for work once dinner is over, and Ian and Mandy get situated in the living room, spreading their books out on the table as Svetlana does the dishes. Yev goes to look for a coloring book and crayons, and Ian spends about thirty seconds staring at his textbook before he looks over at Mandy.

“You think I should ask now?”

Mandy sighs loudly and doesn’t look away from her notebook.

“Just get it out of the way, dumbass.”

Ian puts his book down and runs his hand through his hair and jiggles his leg a few more times before he heads over to the table, grabbing the last few plates and bringing them in to Svetlana. He takes the cup she’s washing when she’s done and dries it with the towel sitting on the counter, and after he puts it on the drying rack and turns back to face her, she’s staring at him suspiciously.

“What?” he asks.

“What?” she repeats, and he sighs.

“Okay, so,” Ian says. “I want to throw Yev a small birthday party. If Mickey says yes.”

“Okay,” Svetlana says.

“Okay,” Ian says.

She hands him another cup.

Ian dries the rest of the dishes, tapping his foot the whole time, and when they’re done Svetlana bodily shoves him out of the kitchen and into the hallway, ignoring his glare. He shuffles toward Mickey’s room but pauses when he hears Yev talking.

“You promise, Dad?”

“I promised you like twelve times, Yev,” Mickey says, his voice muffled, probably as he changes his shirt.

“Don’t change your mind,” Yev says gravely.

“I said I promise, okay?” Mickey says, and Ian hears him opening and then closing a drawer.

“You’re the best,” Yev says, his tone still very serious.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mickey says.

“Really,” Yev says. “I love you, Daddy.”

“Yeah, love you too, kid,” Mickey says, opening and closing another drawer.

Ian feels weird to be lurking in the hallway. It doesn’t sound like he’s interrupting anything that’s abnormal for Yev and Mickey, but Mickey still might be uncomfortable having Ian hear it. He’s heard Yev throw the phrase around before, and he’s heard Mandy respond with it nonchalantly too, which had surprised Ian. He wonders, a lot, when he watches the two of them with Yev, what they were like before. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to ask.

He moves forward, making sure to be noisy about pushing the door open the rest of the way as he leans against the frame. Yev is laid out on his back on Mickey’s unmade bed, and Mickey is shuffling around some stuff on top of his dresser. Both of them look over at him, and Yev sits up, looking excited.

“Guess what?” he asks, and then before Ian can guess he continues, “Daddy says I can stay up until midnight on Saturday because my birthday is the next day.”

“Cool,” Ian says, smirking at Mickey.

Yev will probably conk out not much later than his regular bedtime, so there’s no harm in the promise. Mickey shoves his wallet into his pocket and turns to lean against the dresser. The collar of his security polo is sticking up at the back.

Ian moves to stand in front of Mickey, reaching out with both hands to unfold and then refold the collar carefully, and some of his nerves settle when Mickey reaches out and wraps his arms loosely around Ian’s waist.

Yev hops off of the bed behind Ian, who turns a little to look, leaving his hands on Mickey’s shoulders.

“I’m gonna go tell Mama you promised,” Yev says.

“She already knows,” Mickey says, exasperated, but Yev darts out the door, and Ian laughs.

“You know,” Ian says, “it’s probably best that I found out sooner rather than later that you’re a man of empty promises.”

Mickey tugs Ian closer, staring at his mouth.

“If I didn’t have to go to work in a minute,” he starts, but Ian kisses him, keeping it chaste.

“See?” Ian says. “Whatever you were just gonna say, that was definitely not gonna have any follow-through.”

Before Mickey can reply, Ian continues, fiddling with Mickey’s collar again.

“Speaking of Yev’s birthday, by the way, Mandy mentioned it to me, and I was wondering – I was thinking maybe we could throw him a small party at my place? It wouldn’t cost anything, and it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

After a second, Ian looks up to find Mickey staring at him, his teeth digging into the corner of his mouth, and Ian finds that he can’t stop talking.

“Mandy said – she said you guys don’t really do birthdays, and she didn’t know if you’d want to change that, but I thought I’d ask anyway. It’s cool if you don’t want to. I just – I thought it would be nice. I want to do it for him.”

Ian waits another second, and then he pulls his arms away from Mickey’s shoulders, letting them hover awkwardly at his sides. Mickey looks away, still chewing on his lip, and Ian starts to pull back, but Mickey’s arms tighten, and Ian lets his hands come to rest on Mickey’s wrists.

“Okay,” Mickey says, and he looks right at Ian and he nods a little and he holds Ian in place.

“Yeah?” Ian asks, laughing a little.

He feels something in his neck and shoulders loosen, and he kisses Mickey again, kind of laughing against his face a little, which is probably super unappealing, but Ian doesn’t really care.

-

The next morning Ian wakes up actually kind of excited to go to work, the way he only is when he’s planning to bring home party supplies through a combination of employee discount and petty theft. He works at the party supply store all day Tuesday and Thursday plus some other sporadic hours, and Ian’s good with customers but it’s dull, except around Halloween, when it’s annoying.

He rolls out of bed and heads downstairs in his pajamas so he can talk to Fiona before she heads out. Liam’s sitting at the table, dozing over a soggy bowl of cereal, and Ian taps him on the back of the head as he goes past. Fiona’s tying her hair up into a ponytail in front of the coffeemaker.

“No time for solids this morning?” Ian asks, grabbing the bread off the top of the fridge and looking for the toaster.

“Late start,” she replies, reaching for the pot. “I still gotta make lunches for the boys.”

“I’ll do lunches,” Ian says. “Finish getting ready.”

“You’re a life-saver, kiddo,” Fiona says, kissing the side of his head and starting to layer on her winter gear.

“Hey, can you stop by and talk to Sheila on your way home?” Ian asks, shoving bread into the toaster and then starting on sandwiches for Liam and Carl.

“Does that mean the party’s happening?” Fiona asks, sounding cautiously optimistic.

“Looks like it,” Ian replies. “Ask her about the food?”

“Sure thing,” Fiona says, plopping onto a chair to pull on her boots. “Gonna grab supplies today?”

“Yep,” Ian says, “and I was thinking about grabbing a gift that can be from all of us?”

“Good plan,” Fiona says, taking the toast Ian hands her as she heads toward the front door. “Make sure Carl gets his ass up on time, will ya?”

Ian just barely gets the kids moving on time to make his train. He does such a small amount of the stuff Fiona’s always done and still has a hard time with it. It makes him wish that he hadn’t contributed so much to the pile of shit she deals with, but then again, keeping secrets from Fiona had caused a lot of problems too, and they’re in a better place now.

Ian makes it to work on time – hopefully Fiona did too – and sets all his winter gear down in the back room. He hates the uniform, ‘cause the khakis like to wrinkle and the red polo looks kinda goofy with his hair, but he’s had to wear worse.

The only other person there so far, humming as she tidies up the back room, is his manager, an older lady who reminds him of Sheila sometimes. It makes Ian feel bad about stealing shit, but not bad enough to stop.

“Hey, do we have any Hot Wheels stuff left?” Ian asks as he clocks in. “I know we were almost out last week.”

“Oooh,” Ruth crows, “another one of your siblings have a birthday coming up? I think we restocked, so you’re in luck.”

“Something like that,” Ian says, smiling at her.

He heads out to the store to see what needs to be restocked, and maybe grab some of the stuff he’s going to actually buy with his employee discount – he’ll grab the rest when Ruth is on break later. It’s usually just the two of them in the morning, for the first few hours, which Ian prefers.

Ian’s okay with the people he works with in the sense that he’s okay with most people. Until a person pisses him off, they’re fine. But he’s definitely waiting for them to piss him off. He’s just really good at making everyone think otherwise.

He knows Fiona and Lip worry about Ian not really having any friends, but even before he got sick, Ian basically just hung out with Lip and maybe whoever Lip was fucking and maybe whoever Ian was fucking. It’s not like he had a psychotic break and suddenly turned antisocial too. Since Lip started school, other than the guys he hooks up with, Ian’s spent most of his time with Debbie. And he’s fine with that, ‘cause other people aren’t really worth the trouble of having to… explain everything.

Only now he’s got the Milkoviches, and he tells them stuff, and it’s weird, but it’s not bad.

When Ian’s mid-morning break rolls around, he heads into the back room and pulls out his phone to call Mickey. Without talking about it, they’ve started taking their morning breaks around the same time ‘cause it makes things easier if they need to talk. It makes Ian feel kind of funny when he thinks about it for too long.

“Fuckin’ cold out,” Mickey says when he picks up, the second time Ian calls.

“Get over it,” Ian says. “Hot Wheels or Iron Man? I’m leaning towards Hot Wheels.”

“Oh,” Mickey says. “Uh, sure.”

He sounds kind of distracted or something, which is weird ‘cause usually he looks forward to talking during their breaks – not that he’s told Ian that, but Ian can tell.

“I thought Hot Wheels would be better since Amy and Gemma like the Hulk more,” Ian says. “Don’t wanna cause any problems. Hey, what kind of cake does Yev like best? Actually, just text Fiona about it, ‘cause she’s gonna ask Sheila about food later, okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mickey says, still sounding distracted. “Look, I gotta head back in, okay?”

“Oh,” Ian says. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later? Don’t forget to text Fiona. And we need to figure out what time everyone can be there on Sunday.”

“Sure,” Mickey says, and then he hangs up.

Ian stares at his phone for a second, but then he realizes Lip has a break between classes now, and he hasn’t asked yet if Lip’ll be around for the weekend. It doesn’t really matter, ‘cause they never really know who will or won’t be around, but Ian figures Lip will like being told that something’s going on, at the very least, so he calls him up to ask.

-

In the Gallagher house, even small parties are… a lot. There isn’t even any booze or drugs, and it’s 11am when things get started, and by noon Tony still shows up due to a noise complaint. Fiona shoves a Hot Wheels noisemaker in his mouth and drags him inside for a piece of cake, though, so it all works out.

Ian feels good about it. He’s not used to being the one in charge, running around cleaning up after the kids, and shutting Carl up when he asks for a third piece of cake, and reassuring Sheila when she loses her spatula in the kitchen, and all the other shit Fiona’s usually on top of. She’d offered to help, but Ian – he wanted to this himself. It’s his thing.

He’s bent over the garbage, digging for Sheila’s spatula, when Kev shouts something about presents over in the living room. Ian startles and whacks his head when Lip speaks from behind him.

“Fi said you got a gift from all of us?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Ian says. “Some coloring books.”

“That’s funny,” Mandy says, and Ian whacks his head again. “I thought you said you got him Iron Man pajamas?”

“I did,” Ian says after a second, but then he finds the spatula and brings it over to the sink to wash it off.

Mandy starts to say something else, but then Lip cuts her off.

“Incoming,” he says, and then Ian bumps into the counter as Yev latches onto his legs from behind.

He twists around as much as he can to see Yev, with his chin against Ian’s thigh and a huge smile on his face. He has reddish stains from the frosting on his mouth and hands.

“The PJs,” he says, widening his eyes.

“Yeah?” Ian laughs, reaching down to loosen Yev’s grip, and once he’s free he grabs Yev under the arms and lifts him up so he’s sitting on the counter next to the sink, Ian’s arms on either side of him to keep him in place.

“And, and the coloring books,” Yev says, kicking his legs. “And the cake!”

He’s probably gonna crash hard when the sugar wears off. He’s practically vibrating with it. Ian reaches up to fix Yev’s hair, which is sticking up funny on the side where there’s frosting stuck in it. He wets a paper towel and rubs at it, holding Yev still with his other hand while the kid squirms.

“Aunt Mandy, why are you mad?” Yev asks, and Ian twists around to see Mandy still leaning against the counter and glaring towards the living room.

Lip is leaving the kitchen, brushing past Mickey, who’s leaning against the doorframe and glaring at him.

“I’m mad ‘cause Ian’s brother won’t stop hitting on me,” she says, her lip curling.

“I’ll talk to him,” Ian says automatically.

“I’ll fuckin’ talk to him,” Mickey says darkly, and Ian rolls his eyes and turns to move Yev from the countertop back to the floor.

Mickey’s been in a weird mood the whole party, kind of off in a corner and not really saying anything, but Ian’s been busy enough that he’s managed not to think about it too much, ‘cause if Mickey’s upset about the party happening – well. Either Ian’s a dick for throwing it, or Mickey’s a dick for letting Ian do it and then being pissy about it, and Ian’s not sure which one it is.

“Hey, why don’t you go cheer Mandy up?” Ian asks, giving Yev a little push toward the living room, and Yev darts off.

Ian leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, waiting to see what Mickey does. It takes a couple seconds of shuffling and rubbing at his mouth for Mickey to move further into the kitchen, hovering near the fridge and not really looking at Ian. Eventually, Ian gives in, but just a little.

“You gonna talk to me now?” he asks.

Mickey jumps, like he’s been caught, like he’s been sneaky, and Ian knows he’s gonna have to press if anything’s gonna happen at all.

“Look,” Ian says. “If you didn’t want the party to happen, you should’ve told me. I wouldn’t have done it. Maybe I got carried away, and I didn’t realize that you were bothered –”

“No,” Mickey says, but then he stops, biting his lip.

“No what?” Ian asks.

“It’s not – it’s not about the party,” Mickey says. “Not really. All that bullshit about not wanting change or whatever Mandy told you. That’s whatever.”

Ian uncrosses his arms and stands up a little, thinks about taking a step toward Mickey but doesn’t.

“Then what is it?” he asks, and Mickey sighs and runs a hand over his hair.

“Look, I – you’re not like Nika, right?” Mickey says, his hands out in front of him, not really looking at Ian. “You’re good with kids, you like the kid, you wanna hang out with the kid. It’s good. It should be good.”

Ian leans back against the counter again, something heavy filling his stomach and his limbs.

“I,” Mickey says, “I worry that he’s gonna get too attached, you know? He likes you and it hasn’t even been that fuckin’ long and this is new for him, you know?”

Mickey stares at Ian, his hands stretched out between them, but Ian doesn’t know what Mickey’s expecting him to offer.

“I’m worried that it’s too much,” Mickey says, and Ian ducks his head and grips the edge of the counter behind him.

Ian’s always been too much.

“Okay,” Ian says.

“Okay?” Mickey asks blankly.

“Yeah. Okay,” Ian says, lifting his chin to look at Mickey directly. “I’ll back off.”

He heads toward the living room, brushing past Mickey without really looking at him.

“Okay,” Mickey huffs, and he sounds kind of confused, like Ian’s not giving him exactly what he asked for. “Fine. Fine! Fuckin’ okay, then.”

Ian keeps walking.

-

The next Saturday night, ‘cause Mickey has off of work, Ian was supposed to go over to the Milkovich place for dinner, and maybe a movie, and maybe making out on the couch once Yev fell asleep, or at least taking embarrassing pictures of Yev and Mickey once they both fell asleep.

Saturday night, Ian goes to the Alibi. He has a couple of beers, ‘cause he and Kev have this deal where Kev won’t say anything about Ian drinking a little more than he should as long as he lets Kev babysit him while he does it

When Ian puts down another empty glass, he catches Kev staring at him as he dries a mug with a dirty-looking rag.

“What,” Ian says, and Kev sighs.

“You wanna talk about it, man?” Kev asks. “I never know when’s the best time to ask. People have tried to punch me for asking before! Don’t punch me, dude, but you look like you need to talk.”

Ian heaves out a huge breath and rests his forehead on his folded arms.

“Is that a no?” Kev asks.

Ian knows he probably should talk about it, but he feels like an idiot. It’s not like the shit Mickey said doesn’t make sense. But Ian doesn’t know what he should be doing differently. He should probably just tell Mickey that he’s fine with hanging out with Yev less or whatever, but. Ian doesn’t really want to.

If anything, Ian should be working his relationship with Mickey around his relationship with Yev and Mandy, ‘cause he was friends with them before he was even friends with Mickey, let alone his boyfriend. It’s not like Ian’s breaking some agreement that Mickey laid down when they first started seeing each other. Mickey shouldn’t be pissed at Ian for violating an unspoken rule.

Ian sits up in his seat, reaching for his glass before remembering that it’s empty. To his surprise, there’s a full glass waiting for him, and when he looks up, Kev winks.

“Thanks,” Ian mutters.

Kate comes from the other end of the bar over to Kev, raising her eyebrows at Ian when she spots him.

“Well I was gonna ask if you were bringing your man to the Valentine’s Day party next week,” she says, “but I guess not, huh?”

Ian groans and drops his head to his arms again. It’s not fuckin’ likely Mickey would want to go to something like that anyway, but still – Ian forgot all about it.

“Kev, you ask the boy if he wants to talk about it?” Kate asks, and after a pause she laughs and there’s a clapping sound, like she hit Kev on the shoulder.

Something wet smacks against Ian’s arm, and he pulls back to see Kev wielding the rag.

“Now I’m not an expert on romance or whatever,” Kev says, “but it’s almost Valentine’s Day, and Valentine’s Day is not the time to break up over stupid shit, you hear me?”

“Oh my god,” Ian says, taking a big gulp of beer.

He can’t help it, though; he thinks about how frustrated Mickey had looked when he was trying to explain things to Ian. He wasn’t frustrated with Ian, is the thing. He looked – confused, maybe. Like he didn’t really know what the fuck he was talking about either.

And that’s the thing. He doesn’t. Mickey has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, and he’s making the rules up as he goes along, and he’s probably not mad at Ian for being unable to follow them before he tells Ian about them. Ian’s just being a douche.

“Fuck,” Ian says, and he takes another sip of beer, and then he pulls out his phone.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kev says, but Ian flips him off and calls Mickey.

There’s a moment where Ian’s afraid that Mickey won’t answer, but then he does, and he sounds groggy, like he’s probably asleep in front of the television with Yev on his lap, and Ian hates himself for staying away for nearly a week.

“What?” Mickey snaps, like he probably said it more than once, and he probably didn’t even check the caller ID, so Ian winces preemptively as he answers.

“Uh, hey,” he says, and he maybe sounds a little drunk, but it’s not that bad, he’s not that bad. “So here’s the thing. I’m an asshole.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey says, and he sounds amused, and Ian kind of wilts against the counter a little.

“Yes,” Ian says. “Yes. So. Can we. Can we do the talking thing?”

“Now?” Mickey laughs.

“Probably not now,” Ian says. “What about tomorrow? I’m gonna bring lunch tomorrow. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Mickey says. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Tell Kev I’ll kick his ass if he doesn’t tuck you in after this, alright?”

Ian laughs and covers his face with his free hand. A week was way too long.

-

Ian gets to Mickey’s place early again and winds up pacing outside of his door, holding a pizza and hoping it won’t get cold before Mickey shows up. He feels silly, about the phone call, about the reason he was upset, about the pacing, and he’s not sure if Mickey’s still pissed at him. He startles when he turns around and Mickey is standing there watching him, looking kind of amused and kind of concerned.

“Oh,” Ian says. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Mickey says, and then he kisses Ian, short and quick, before he turns to unlock the door.

Ian blinks.

“Aren’t you pissed at me?” he asks, following Mickey inside.

He sets the pizza down and sits on the couch, watching Mickey toss his keys and wallet onto a table and take off his shoes.

“Because I was an asshole,” Ian continues. “I overreacted. I shouldn’t have stayed away for so long.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mickey says. “But I did a bad job of explaining – and besides…”

He sits down, leans his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together between them, chewing on his lip.

“Look,” he says, “I’m not actually that fuckin’ worried about Yev liking you or whatever. I should probably more worried about it than I am, actually.”

“What,” Ian says, and Mickey huffs out a laugh and runs a hand over his hair.

“You’re gonna make me fuckin’ say it,” he mutters disbelievingly, squinting over at Ian, and he jiggles his leg up and down and rubs at his mouth and stares down at the floor for a couple of seconds.

“What –” Ian starts to ask again, but Mickey cuts him off all in a rush.

“It’s not _him_ I’m worried about liking you too much, dumbass,” Mickey says, not looking at Ian, and Ian blinks a few times before he gets it.

“Oh,” he says.

“I,” Mickey says. “I know I keep fuckin’ saying that I don’t know what I’m doing, but I don’t. I don’t know what’s normal or too fast, and all that shit Svetlana said – what are the fuckin’ odds that the first time in my life I – I _date_ someone, or whatever, that you’re more than fine with the kid, and – and there’s all this other shit you don’t even know yet –”

“Hey,” Ian says, grabbing Mickey’s arm and tugging until Mickey looks at him. “Hey. Remember that time we sat right here and I told you all my shit? I’m pretty sure I can handle yours.”

Mickey doesn’t look convinced, but he lets Ian pull him so that they’re both leaning back against the cushions, Ian’s arm behind Mickey’s neck.

“And,” Ian says, “I keep telling you that I don’t know what I’m doing either. The last time I had a relationship where I talked to the dude more than I fucked him… was probably when I was 15, and –”

Ian shakes his head, ‘cause that’s something Mickey’s already heard about, and they don’t need to revisit it.

“Anyway, I don’t know how this is supposed to work either. Honestly, this is slower than I’m used to, but that’s because, you know, we actually give a shit.”

He pauses and looks over at Mickey, but Mickey doesn’t look as uncomfortable with the direct statement as Ian might’ve anticipated.

“And about the Yev stuff –”

“Don’t,” Mickey says, shaking his head.

“No,” Ian says, “it’s important. If you want me to back off or whatever, I will.”

Mickey tilts his head back against Ian’s arm, squinting up at the ceiling for a second, and then he leans forward and opens the pizza box and pulls out two slices, passing one over to Ian.

“There’s this play or some shit Yev’s class is putting on in a coupla weeks,” Mickey says with his mouth full. “I don’t know who’s gonna have work or not, but me and Svetlana and Mandy are all gonna try to be there. I’ll let you know when it is.”

“Oh,” Ian says, and then he realizes he’s dripping pizza grease all over his lap.

They’re a couple slices in, some reality show playing in front of them, when Mickey nudges Ian in the side.

“You drunk when you called me?” he asks casually.

“Yeah,” Ian says, wincing a little. “Don’t worry. Kev walked me home and everything. He was very chivalrous.”

“Hm,” Mickey says.

“It was fine,” Ian says. “Really, it wasn’t a big deal. Don’t worry.”

Mickey scoffs loudly and rolls his eyes, and Ian laughs disbelievingly.

“What,” Ian says, “you trying to pretend now that you don’t give a shit? Ten minutes ago you admitted to liking me. I remember that happening.”

“Ugh,” Mickey says loudly, leaning away when Ian snakes him arm all the way around Mickey’s neck and into a loose chokehold. “Fuck off!”

“Hm,” Ian says, tugging harder so that Mickey flops back against Ian’s chest. “I don’t think so.”

“I hate you,” Mickey growls, punching Ian on the thigh, but not that hard.

“Okay, sure,” Ian says, and then he kisses Mickey on the top of the head, and Mickey goes stiff for a second before he slumps against Ian, grumbling under his breath.

Ian gives him a second to get comfortable.

“Pass me another slice?” Ian asks, and he laughs when Mickey lets out an outraged groan.

Mickey flips him off, but he leans forward to get it.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [professorwolfjwolf](professorwolfjwolf.tumblr.com).


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